


Springtime

by YOHLIX



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Fae & Fairies, M/M, Magic, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-ABO
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:41:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YOHLIX/pseuds/YOHLIX
Summary: minho's werewolf is starting to act weird...
Relationships: Bang Chan & Lee Minho | Lee Know, Bang Chan/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	Springtime

**Author's Note:**

> How long has it been...? I'm so sorry - have horny fantasy characters to make up for it.

It was always just rumors. Legends dipped in stereotyping and stigma. Because, not much is known about werewolves — not even in a formal academia setting. Lycanthropy isn't a subject, after all; it's not like werewolves even _go_ to school. It's not like werewolves even _walk down the street_.

Really, if it weren't for the fact that there was one hunched at Minho's feet — kneeling before a sizable divot in the soil and tending to a raspberry shrub — it'd be hard to believe they exist at all. In the present, at least. There's always reports of 'sightings'. In just about every Sunday paper, actually. Those firsthand encounters or whatnot are always bullshit; there aren't many wolfkind left, if any at all. It's widely accepted that they went extinct around the turn of the _previous_ century.

As far as Chan knows, he's the only werewolf left or at the very least, one of the last ones. It's always been a 'lone wolf' type deal with him...

So it's interesting, seeing as how this is their first spring spent together, to witness Chan exhibit one of those rumored wolf behaviors that fae children stay up too late telling steamy/scary stories about.

Minho's been watching every day for the past 2 weeks or so, with rapt fascination, as the sunlight seemingly gets under Chan's sweat-slick skin. As the air temperature rises, so does his irritability. And werewolves, or at least this specific one, are already irritable by nature. So for Chan to somehow grow even more bothered by every featherlight touch is amusing. There are still little mounds of frozen precipitation here and there, left over from the final snowfall in March. Their shelters in the shade shrink everyday, though, as the sun crawls higher and the shadows dissipate. And it's like, with every coating of ice that melts away, another layer of Chan's patience sloughs off.

So far, Minho has just been a bystander to the wolfman's abrasiveness. He only _accidentally_ pisses him off these days. For example: when he bumps into Chan in their cottage kitchen, which is made for one petit fairy-sized man that is _not_ accompanied by a beast-sized sous chef. Chan's not all that tall, but he takes up a lot of space and he's innately... clunky. And somehow even worse is when he's stuck in his canidae form and insists on following Minho around. Then his wagging tail alone is responsible for shattering more priceless handmade dishes than Minho has ever broken in his very long life, by cause of accidentally swiping them off the counter and sending them to the floor. So, collisions are bound to happen. But up until springtime has sprouted, such collisions have never made Chan yelp like a stepped-on puppy and jump out of his own body. Literally... sometimes he flinches so hard he shifts.

Just yesterday morning, Minho was out on the back porch in his rocking chair under the awning. Chan was resting on the ground beside him, sitting on the white-painted wooden planks and whittling away at things, as usual — he's been working on two projects: the hilt of yet another knife and a creepy little troll figurine. ( _"Trolls don't actually look like that, y'know."_ ) And just like usual, Minho absentmindedly moved his hand from one end of the book he was reading to the top of Chan's head. His fingers had barely brushed against the fringe of his curly fawn hair when Chan was catapulting across the porch and barking profanities. Then he got up and nearly ripped the screen door off its hinges when he stormed inside, leaving Minho dumbfounded (and causing him to lose his reading place). (It was a cook book?)

What's really confusing — yet also really telling of the situation at hand — is that despite Chan's misanthropic attitude, he also seems more obsessive lately. In his time spent observing Chan during the months he's been here, Minho's learned that he is very driven. He's driven in all things, from winning their games of croquet by the pond to bringing home as many fowl for dinner as possible. But when it comes to Minho, whom he's grown impossibly attached to, he's especially driven. Like a big dumb dog, he gets sort of drunk on his affection for the elf who took him in. But his affection has always come in the form of sloppy, yet chaste, cheek kisses and dopey hugs that turn into a cuddle pile on the futon.

Minho's not used to the attention he's been getting lately. He's been getting dark glazed-over eyes watching his every move as he's pulling his tunic off before bed. And possessive grips on his arm or his thigh whenever they're standing or sitting close enough to each other.

So Minho surmises a werewolf's libido changing with the seasons is more than just an erotic rumor.


End file.
